“I shall beg in advance the indulgence of the court. I have never before tried a case. I shall make some blunders in trying this one. But, sir, I have undertaken, here, upon the instant, without preparation, the defence of that priceless thing—a man’s liberty—nay, his life! For he is sick and hopeless unto death. And, unless he is taken from this court to an hospital, upon our hands will be not only his liberty but his life. Sir, I have been taught, I am sure this court has been taught, before it ascended the three steps which lead to the bench, that liberty is a holy thing. That it is a nobler quest, in this forum, to stand its champion than in that other to contend for those priceful things which may be measured in money. Am I wrong, sir, to do this? Do the gentlemen of the bar laugh for that reason? If they laugh at me, in God’s name let them do so. But, let no one laugh at such a solemn spectacle as this—Look! Look at the man! Look about! Was ever man save He that suffered on the cross so friendless and alone? such a stranger among strangers?” “Proceed!” shouts the district attorney. The court nods in assent. “When your opportunity comes, Mr.—Mr.—” “Forrest,” prompts the lawyer. “—to address the jury, they may be interested in—er—your views—upon—er—liberty. The court—has—er—heard them often. Proceed, sir, with your witness.” Under this brutality John Forrest has become the steady practitioner of a dozen years. “You know nothing about this watch, or its taking?” “No.” “Then why did you arrest him?” “On complaint of Mr. Hall.” “You had no warrant?” “No.” The lawyer turns to the court. “Upon the testimony of the man who made the arrest it was an illegal seizure. He must have had a warrant unless he saw the commission of the offence. I move his discharge from custody.” “Object,” said the district attorney, and the court instantly rules the objection sustained. “Proceed, sir.” “Then, I ask the court to rule upon the question of whether or not the prisoner was justified in resisting an illegal arrest.” The district attorney objects again, and the court again frankly sustains him. The easiest way is certainly being proved the best—for him. Nothing is developed from the other witnesses, who repeat their testimony. The prosecutor remembers distinctly having his watch, though he knew nothing of its taking. Then the young champion puts the prisoner upon the stand. Now, if God’s pity ever descends to temper the rigor of human judgment, here is its invocation— His story is little and simple as his counsel translates it. He had arrived in the city three days before. He gave a runner his last money to procure him work, but he did not return. And he waited and hungered and walked the streets, neither sleeping nor eating. He staggered against the prosecutor—yes—blindly—in an agony—he apologized—but the man called out—officers came—they shot at him—he fell—and then he opened his eyes as they saw him—bloody—maimed in a prison—